


Caius Meets the Historian

by RinzlersGhost



Category: Twilight Series - All Media Types
Genre: Other, imagine prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 08:48:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28828410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RinzlersGhost/pseuds/RinzlersGhost
Summary: Imagine Caius finding out you’re his mate during a feeding.
Relationships: Caius/Reader
Kudos: 10





	Caius Meets the Historian

**Author's Note:**

> Piccolo - small/little one

You cursed to yourself, almost silently as you felt around for your keys. A sudden sense of danger was tingling on your spine and you almost knew better than to take the steps forward with the rest of your tour group. The worst part was--- you knew exactly where they were. You could still picture them sitting on the nightstand in your hotel room and you groaned, rolling your eyes.

A pretty woman herded the group into the castle, pointing out various pieces of antiques and paintings, giving brief descriptions. Some of them you were able to recognize by artist, others by technique. The ones that you didn’t know, you could easily figure out. After all, you had that uncanny sense-- the one that allowed you to not only find things, but to know where they were or find out where they came from. 

For example, there was a painting that spanned the length of the wall. It boasted seven figures, three men behind and three men and one woman in front. It was easily around a millennia old. Style dictated that it was done by a Chinese painter-- a bit out of his tastes too. It also originated from this castle-- as if the people in the painting were the former occupants. It was incredibly well-preserved for a piece of history. Clearly the current owners were very proud of it.

You lingered near it. There was something about the white-haired man in the painting that was hard to ignore. You didn’t know why. All art was interesting to you, but the artist had clearly caught some part of sorrow on the three men in the background. It was almost as if they were in mourning.

“Care to join the rest of your tour?” A woman lingered nearby. You forced a nervous chuckle. 

“Who are they?” The woman seemed too stunned to interact.

“They... they were the Volturi. Former lords and guards of the castle.” So your predictions were right, as you suspected. “The brunette on the left, that was Marcus. The raven haired one in the middle, that was Aro, and the white-haired man on the left, that was Caius. And the guards, from left to right, Felix, Demetri, Jane, and Alec.”

“Caius.” You tasted the name softly. “He does seem rather Roman in origin.”

“Uh... yeah, I guess.” The woman stammered. Her nervousness did not help your own. 

“You clearly don’t care for history.” You muttered.

“Y/N!” The woman bounded to the back of the group. Heidi, you thought was her name. “We thought we lost you.”

“Nope. Just admiring the scenery.” You replied. Heidi laughed. 

“Well, trust me, there’s a lot more you’re missing out on.” She chirped. “Come on; I’ll fill you in on the way over.”

You knew you didn’t need her to fill you in. You knew where most of this came from. The better question was who had the money to buy all of it, or were the owners of this castle just archeologists? You stopped at the back of the tour group and Heidi skipped to the front, unlocking the oaken doors in front of you.

“Welcome to the Volterra castle!” She smiled sweetly as you passed by her.

“Goodie.” You muttered. Remember that feeling of danger that you were getting earlier? Well, it was here, and back in full force. After everyone was escorted into the room, Heidi left the room and shut the doors. You heard the lock audibly click into place. You got the feeling that a lot of people saw the inside of this room and then never saw anything else again.

You edged yourself out to the edge of the group, looking for a weapon. Most of the room was marble, but you caught a glint of silver in the back of the room. It looked like a ceremonial dagger, lying clasped in the hands of a statue. You never were one to go down easily anyways. The man sitting on the throne in the middle raised his head.

You were shocked. It was one of the men from the painting. He appeared to have not aged a day.

“Welcome to Volterra. My name is Aro,”

“Aro.” You whispered softly as he spoke. His eyes swung to you for a moment. 

“And I’ll be hosting the rest of your tour.” He said quietly, his eyes still on you. You looked away; his gaze was intense. “This is our throne room. Here, we’ve hosted trials over the centuries, passing judgement on our fellows as we see fit.” He wasn’t lying. The room was designed to be like a courtroom, if one could ignore the rather large drain in the middle. Three thrones for three lords adorned the platform. You shook your head. Sometimes curiosity was a bad thing.

“Your throne room? You mean the Volturi?” A young man asked.

“But my dear, who do you think we are?” Aro asked, letting his implications sink in. He smiled as realization dawned on the young man’s face. “As per the usual with all of the tours that come to Volterra, you and your fellow kin will not be leaving.” Another right assumption, you thought. “Because you are here for me and my kin to enjoy.” Fear settled in the group, unease passing through in ripples. You kept your eyes trained on the dagger now. “Brothers... shall we?” The two other men unfolded themselves from the thrones. Aro waited a moment before leaping into the crowd of people.

Screams erupted in the room and the others charged into the fray. The group scattered, some running, some beating at the door to be let out as the immortals stalked them, but most crying. A few, a mere few, had the gall to fight back. The first blood spilled trickled into the drain at your feet. People were passing you left and right but you, you didn’t seem to care. Your feet left the floor and darted through people dying at the hands of these... you looked back briefly to see Aro at the throat of the young man, his teeth sunk deep into his body... vampires, to the marble statue in the back. You ripped the dagger from the statue’s hands and plunged it into the stomach of the vampire you knew was pursuing you. His look of enjoyment quickly turned to one of pain as he looked to the dagger in his stomach. You ripped it out and sprinted to the other side of the room. Unfortunately, you’d been too keen on getting away to notice that you’d cornered yourself and there were still plenty of hungry vampires intent on you. A blonde girl smirked at you.

“Pain.” She whispered. Agony overcame your senses and you dropped to your knees as a strangled scream ripped from your body. You didn’t even notice another vampire sink his teeth into your wrist. 

“I’ll try to make this quick.” He whispered. You nodded and closed your eyes and the pain seemed to fade away to the sharp stabbing in your wrist.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” A voice cut in and you felt the dark-haired boy being ripped away from your wrist. You opened your eyes and tried to struggle to your feet but it was no use. You grabbed the fallen dagger and brandished it at the vampire who was approaching. The blonde girl used her power on you again and you couldn’t resist anymore. The sound of shattering porcelain brought your eyes up and you looked to see the standing vampire ripping off her head, tossing it aside. He turned to you, his mouth still dripping with blood, fangs bared. You instantly recognized him.

“Caius.” You whispered hoarsely.

“You know my name, _piccolo_?” Caius asked. He didn’t seem amused and you shrank back as he came towards you. He stopped for a moment, seeing that he’d frightened you. You somehow got the sense that he was not a tender person and that this was out of character even for him. He took a breath and walked towards you, kneeling by your side. He gestured to your wrist. “May I?”

Why did your gut tell you to trust him? You couldn’t help but nod when he asked and he took your wrist, retracted his fangs, and let his tongue come over the wound. You shivered slightly at the sensation and Caius looked up to you as the wound healed over. “Take this.” He handed you his necklace and you gripped it tightly. “It should keep other vampires off of you. I must still feed, _piccolo_. Stay there.” He stood and started walking away.

“It’s Y/N.” He turned briefly towards you. “My name is Y/N.”

“Stay there, Y/N.” Caius murmured, jumping back into feeding, clearing out the rest of the humans. Another vampire lumbered over and sat down next to you. His eyes were still dark, and you recognized him as the brunette from the painting. He hadn’t fed, or if he had, he’d been very clean about it. He gazed over you, analyzing you and you felt small under his look.

“I would not have had you introduced into our world like this, Y/N.” Marcus murmured.

“It’s... ok. You get hungry like everyone else. You’re entitled to food.” You replied, still in a bit of shock. Marcus sighed softly.

“Even so, there are other ways. Aro prefers his theatrics. I prefer it out of donation. Caius likes to hunt.”

“Caius.” You murmured. You strained to see the white-haired vampire in the crowd. He stood out to you more than anything. How was it that you could turn a blind eye to the horrors they committed.

“Lack of crime in Italy has forced us to take more desperate measures.” Marcus murmured. “I am sorry that you got bunched in with tourists.”

“I am a tourist.” You replied snarkily. Marcus looked to you in surprise, caught off guard.

“That may be, Y/N. But you’re not a tourist anymore. You’re a survivor. You’re my brother’s mate.”

“His what now?”You turned your attention back to Marcus. “I’m his what?”

“Mate.” Caius interrupted. “You’re my mate.” You blinked in surprise.

“You people tried to have me killed and you have the audacity to suggest that we’re to become lovers?” You leaned forward. “You must take me for some daft fool.”

“I can assure you, I’m not.” Caius replied, a storm brewing on his face. You struggled to your feet.

“Listen here you, you...” You were a bit dazzled by his beauty up close. “You... beautiful, murdering, lying piece of shit. I am not your mate. I am fucking sarcastic and insensitive asshole who obsesses over history. You can do better than me. Believe me.”

“I...” Caius stopped. “I can’t chose my mate, Y/N. And I’m... how did you say it, a fucking sarcastic and insensitive asshole as well, one who likes hunt other supernatural creatures into extinction and who obsesses over art. I think we’ll get along just fine, Y/N.”


End file.
